Winter's Discontent
by Obsidian3
Summary: Winter can be cold, cruel, and merciless. Jacqueline Frost would rather have fun than worry about silly things like responsibilities. Between those two facts, she has no idea what the Guardians want from her. Fem!Jack AU
1. Chapter 1

Awareness suddenly flooded into her.

For one terrifying second, her mind was utterly blank. _Nothing _made the slightest bit of sense. Then, slowly, she began to register her surroundings, to _understand _them.

Dark.

Cold.

Her limbs weren't responding the way she wanted them to, her movements jerky and sluggish. Panic began mounting, made all the worse when she realized she was surrounded by water, rather than air. _That's not right, _something in her mind insisted. How had she gotten there? Where had she come from?

Who was she?

She had no idea.

_She had no idea!_

Just when she began working her way up to what might have been an appropriately hysterical state, she caught sight of something above her. Something big, and bright. She couldn't get a good look at it, though, as there seemed to be something between them, distorting her view of it. She rose upward, though it was impossible to tell if the thing was drawing her toward it, or she was actually doing so under her own power, somehow.

It didn't matter.

She easily broke through the ice - the term finally surfacing from the depths of her seemingly blank memory - and gasped in wonder at what she was seeing.

The Moon.

Another name that came from nowhere. That didn't matter, either. All that did was that it made her feel... safe. Like there was nothing for her to be afraid of.

Not even the fact that she was floating unassisted in the air. Or that she still had no idea who she was.

_**You are Jacqueline Frost.**_

Her eyes widened in wonder as she stared up at the Moon. Or... Was there someone up there? _In _the Moon? She barely noticed as she was set down upon the ice. She didn't slip as she moved across it, and some dim, distant thought said that wasn't right, either. She didn't care. Looking down at her (strangely dry) self, Jacqueline discovered she was wearing a drab, tannish-colored dress, and a simple brown cloak. Her hair, hanging well past her shoulders, was a solid white. There was also nothing covering her feet. Was that right?

Maybe it didn't matter. The ice didn't feel cold to her - or, more accurately, the cold of it didn't bother her in the slightest - so what did she need shoes for?

She partially answered her own question as she stepped on a lengthy stick laying on the ice.

It didn't hurt - not exactly, anyway - but it was by no means a pleasant experience. She bent down to pick it up, if only to prevent any further not-quite-pain, and almost dropped it when it seemed to light up from within. One end hit the ice, and patterns of frost began curling across the frozen surface of the lake.

She blinked, then jerked it away from the ice. Holding it in front of her, she studied it carefully. It was fairly solid, yet thin enough to wrap her hands around. Almost as tall as she was, it was about as straight as a branch could be, with a fair-sized crook at the top. It felt... familiar, in her hands. Right. Like it belonged there.

And she could feel the energy, now that she was looking. In the staff, but coming from her. Like it was a channel for something within her.

_**You are Jacqueline Frost.**_

Yes... Yes, she was. Slowly, she made her way to shore, then hesitantly tapped the crook end of her staff against a tree.

Frost began forming twisting patterns there, too.

Grinning, she tried it on more trees, laughing when that produced the same result. Whooping with delight, she raced across the frozen lake, dragging the bottom of the staff across the ice. Oh, this was... This was just...

_Fun._

She didn't even notice at first when the wind picked her up. Then it seemed like a great game, and when she hovered well above the lake, looking down at her beautiful handiwork, she felt a simple joy unlike anything she could remember.

Which was not hard, given that her memory only extended to when she first awoke under the ice.

She shook her head, deciding she wanted to go down, now. The wind obliged - she dropped like a rock.

The next few seconds were a jumble of grunts, smacks, and crashes as she tumbled through the branches of the tree she'd been hovering over, tearing off a number of twigs on her way down. She eventually wound up in a snowbank, mildly sore but ultimately unharmed.

Should that have hurt? Spitting out a mouthful of snow, she decided not to question it. Maybe flying people who could make ice could all survive such falls without consequence. And speaking of people...

She willed herself upward again, being more careful this time, and saw that, sure enough, she'd been right: she _had _seen lights in the distance. And now that she was looking, she could see structures there, as well. Houses? Was that a town?

Maybe someone there could tell her where she was.

With that hopeful thought in mind, she made her way toward the town as best she was able. And while neither her flight nor her landing were terribly graceful, they were fun. Besides, no one seemed to notice.

Did a lot of people come flying into this town on the winter wind? She'd have to ask. First things first, though. "Excuse me," she said to the first person she saw, a man dressed in the same sort of drab, functional clothing she was. "Could you tell me where I am?"

He ignored her.

She huffed. Well, that was rude. She turned to a nearby woman and repeated the question. And was once again ignored.

"I cannot say I appreciate the manners of this town," she told the woman, who didn't even blink, or do anything to acknowledge that she'd said anything.

_Okay, then, try someone else. _Maybe one of the kids? Kids couldn't _not _talk to people, or so she believed. Looking around, she spotted a young boy chasing a dog near the large bonfire in the center of town. "Excuse me," she began as she moved into their path, "I was wondering if-"

The boy and dog went _through _her.

She gasped in shock at the intensely strange feeling. There were no words for how uncomfortable, nearly painful, that was. And...

How...?

How had they...?

Someone else - maybe the woman she'd tried talking to before, she couldn't tell - walked through her, and she hunched over. "Stop it!" she yelled uselessly, then took to the air before she got in someone else's way.

As quickly as she could, she flew back toward the lake. It was all she knew, and she needed some familiarity. "I don't understand," she whispered to herself as she settled onto one of the more solid branches of the first tree she came to. "What am I?" Was she a ghost? She'd woken up _underwater,_ after all. Yet... Ghosts had memories. Lives. Her memory, before waking up, was a blank slate.

She stared up at the moon, which wasn't bringing her much comfort anymore. "Please," she begged. "Just... tell me what I am. Why am I here? Anything!"

The Moon didn't speak to her.

For the next 300 years.


	2. Chapter 2

**Santoff Claussen**

**North Pole**

**2012**

The North pole was not a cheery place. Cold, remote, and desolate; no one travelled its vast expanse if they didn't have to. While this was hardly the only reason Santoff Claussen remained undiscovered, it certainly helped.

Despite the generally grim locale, the atmosphere of Santoff Claussen itself was generally busy, occasionally hectic, but always full of joy and wonder. That was to be expected, though, when the Guardian of Wonder himself was in residence.

Nicholas St. North, better know to children all over the world as Santa Claus, was at that moment working on a new toy. Singing along with the cheerful Russian tune he was listening to - well, singing along as best he could, given that the song had no words - he put down the chainsaw he had (carefully, of course) used to get a block of ice the proper size, then selected an apropriately-sized hammer and chisel. "Still waiting for cookies!" he called as he began the delicate crafting.

One wouldn't think it was delicate, if one only saw the large man happily chipping at the ice. But, as with many things, you couldn't rely on surface-level impressions alone when it came to the crafting of toys.

In the background, he could hear the rustling of bells that told him his elves were moving about nearby. That was why he'd put them in the costumes in the first place, of course. In the beginning, he'd been constantly tripping over them, and after one near-fatal misstep, he'd decided something had to be done. Thus, the bells. It wasn't perfect, but it did at least keep the little things from being stepped on.

The yetis, of course, needed no such protection.

A plate of cookies was finally deposited on the floor near him. One looked to have been reduced to crumbs somehow, but given the general limitations of the elves, he barely even noticed such things, anymore. "Ah, finally!" he exclaimed, selecting one and taking a bite. Excellent, as always. His mouth too full to compliment them, he settled on making pleased sounds as he continued his work, occasionally eating another cookie. Almost... Yes! That was it!

He settled the ice, carefully carved into an intricately detailed train, on a set of model tracks. They were more like a model rollar coaster track than train tracks, but that was simply a reflection of North's personality. He laughed with delight as the train made its way along the track, whistle blowing as it impossibly belched steam from a non-existant boiler. It reached the end of the track, kept going...

...and magically transformed into a rocket-propelled train, tiny wings even extending from the sides for stability. It looped and arched through the air, heading for the door to the workshop proper, to be officially shown off. Naturally, the production model would not be able to do what his newly created prototype did - nor would it be made of ice - but it would be a useful visual aid for the yetis to understand what he wanted. It would also be fun to have it zooming around. It made a final turn, stabilized, and headed for the door.

It was then reduced to debris when said door suddenly burst open, smashing the delicate train to pieces.

North's wordless cry of dismay was matched by a horrified exclamation from the yeti at the door. "How many times I tell you? Knock before entering!" he chided sternly.

The yeti - Phil, North realized once he calmed down - barely seemed to register what he'd said. His agitated speech would be undecipherable to most anyone, but North had long ago learned to understand the yeti language, even before he'd become a Guardian. "What? The Globe?" He headed for the door, not even breaking stride as he grabbed one of his swords.

Just in case.

The elves had clustered together to see what all the commotion was about. Unfortunately, that cluster was directly in his path. "Shoo, with your pointy hats! Why are you always underboot?" He pushed his way between two yetis standing near the Globe's control panel and examined the situation. Phil hadn't been exaggerating. Something was _very _wrong with the Globe. "_What?_" he wondered as he stared at it. As usual, it was lit up with the lights that represented the children of the world who _believed_. Believed in magic, believed in wonder, believed in _them._

Some of them were flickering.

Dimming.

Going out.

That children would eventually stop believing was one of the sad inevitabilities of their existence. But for so many, all over the world, all at once... Because it was happening on every continent that supported human life. Every country.

Everywhere.

Frowning, he punched a few buttons on the console, turned a dial or two, then entered a few more commands. While mainly used to monitor the number and location of the believers, the Globe could do more. (He had to keep an eye on who was naughty and who was nice somehow, after all.) He selected a few of the lights that had gone out, and started scanning to see what had gone wrong.

What he hadn't considered was that, in so doing, he would open a channel through all Santoff Claussen's defenses, all but inviting the mysterious force inside.

The computer made a strangled beeping sound, and without warning, a wave of black sand welled up from the bottom of the Globe, swirling and spreading up until it completely enveloped it. He raised a hand to shield his face from the wind it generated as it spun faster and faster... until it burst away from the Globe like a popped bubble, disappating into nothingness.

That would have been strange enough, but then... something blurred past him.

It moved too fast to keep track of, knocking a few elves about as it flew across the floor.

And then an all-too-familiar profile, composed of the black sand, rose up into the air to move behind and over the Globe with an echoing, evil laugh.

"It cannot be..." But it was, he could tell. He felt the truth of it all the way down to his belly. North's expression hardened. Bunny wouldn't like this - he _did _keep track of the calendar during the entire year, not just near Christmas - but there was nothing else to be done. "Dingle!" he barked, having no real idea where that particular elf was in the crowd (which had just started to emerge from where they'd hidden - or been blown to). "Prepare for guests. We are going to have company."

That said, he grabbed onto a handle attached to a thick, clear crystal, turned it, and pushed down.

In response, the countries on the Globe lit up in a rainbow of shifting colors, and a beam of light stabbed up into the sky, where it split off in a multitude of directions, the waves of the aurora borealis spreading across the world.

It was time for the Guardians to gather.

* * *

**Tooth Palace**

**Northern India**

As was ever the case, the Tooth Palace was a study in organized chaos.

One wouldn't think the two words would go together, but there was really no other way to describe the atmosphere to an outside observer. Mini-fairies - the tiny, hummingbird-like helpers created by the original Tooth Fairy to aid her in her work - zoomed every which way as they headed out on business, deposited teeth in their proper receptacles, collected coins for new teeth, and headed back out again. Anyone wandering blindly into the fray would get smacked into by no less than a dozen mini-fairies in under ten seconds flat.

Despite all the seemingly chaotic activity, however, they were all hyper-organized in their respective tasks, thanks to the actual Tooth Fairy herself.

Standing - or, rather, flying - in the center of the storm, she called out instructions to all her helpers without missing a beat. Checking items off on her omni-present clipboard as she went, she directed her children with the ease of centuries of practice. She loved her job, of course - with a job like that, she couldn't continue to do it century after century if she didn't - but she'd managed, at some point, to forget the pleasure of it, the wonder. (Wonder was something she left to North.)

With some exceptions.

She broke off in the middle of an order as she got a good look at what one of her fairies was carrying. "Oh, look! It's her first babytooth!" Carefully, but also with her usual hummingbird-esque speed and abruptness, she picked up the tooth in question, constantly shifting position in mid-air so that she (and her fairies) could get a better look at it. "Have you ever seen anything more precious in your life? Look how well she flossed!"

She might well have continued to gush, had some of her fairies not flown up to her and chirped to attract her attention. "What?" She flew over to a window. Sure enough, the aurora was plainly visible, winding its way across the sky. Lips thinning - she couldn't remember the last time North had felt the need to sound the alarm - she quickly assigned some of her fairies the task of supervising various tasks (none of them were able to multi-task to the degree that she was), selected a few to travel with her, and flew out the window, heading toward the north pole.

* * *

**The sky over eastern Europe**

If asked, he would freely admit to indulging himself.

Technically, the Sandman didn't actually _need _to visit any of the places he sent his dreams to. He didn't even need to leave his Dream Ship to perform his duties. But what could he say? He liked seeing the results of his handiwork in person, and there were times when one town or city needed - for one reason or another - especially good dreams that night.

Still, he was spreading them wider than he usually did, and he knew it.

He couldn't have readily explained why. Something had just felt... _off, _lately. So he'd made up his mind to try and sort things out, giving the children soothing, peaceful dreams in the process.

(It wasn't that he had anything against adults, or wished them a poor night's sleep. As a Guardian of Childhood, however, he was somewhat limited in what he could do... or at least whom he could do it _to._ Giving good dreams to _all _the children of the world was difficult enough, he supposed... which wasn't to say he didn't try and sneak some to the more receptive adults, when he had the chance.)

His musings were interrupted when he caught sight of the aurora signal in the sky. So, he hadn't been imagining things; something _was _wrong. Without missing a beat, he reformed the cloud of sand he was standing on into an old-style biplane. Forming himself a pair of sand goggles - because, really, why not? - he zoomed toward the pole.

It had been a while since he had last seen his fellow Guardians. True, they didn't just assemble for emergencies - there were occasional holiday parties, random special occasions, and he would usually exchange greetings with North or Bunnymund in passing on Christmas and Easter - but it had been a fair amount of time since all four were in the same place at the same time.

He was looking forward to it.

* * *

**Santoff Claussen**

**North Pole**

The wind howled over the stark, barren landscape. Snow, either freshly fallen or blown into the air by the relentless wind - or both; it was hard to say with the sporadic cloud cover that usually lingered near Santoff Claussen - swirled and danced on the wind currents, the only motion to be seen for miles in every direction.

Until a hole abruptly formed in the snow-covered ground.

What emerged might have even taken any wandering yetis by surprise: A six-foot tall, bipedal rabbit wearing a belt, with two visible boomerangs (and who knew what else?) on it. He stood near the (rapidly closing) entrance to the tunnel, striking a proud and strong figure-

-right up until the arctic wind sank its teeth into him. "Crikey!" E. Aster Bunnymund exclaimed, all but doubling over. "It's bloody freezing!" He droped to all fours and raced for the nearby Santoff Claussen as fast as he was able (the snowbanks did slow him down somewhat) with repeated cries of, "I can't feel my feet! I can't feel my feet!"

Next time, he promised himself, next time he was going to extend the tunnel right into the workshop. He would have this time, except the aurora signal had left him on the lookout for danger, and he'd decided to err on the side of caution, just in case the workshop itself had been under seige.

_Fat lot of good I would done like this, if it had been,_ he thought as he sprinted through the doors. He happily accepted the offered hot chocolate, wincing as the feeling began returning to his extremeties. Finishing it swiftly - he hadn't forgotten what had been used to summon him, after all - he returned it to yeti who had produced it with a brusque, "Thanks." Then he headed off to track down North.

That was never a terribly challenging activity at Santoff Clausen. North might be able to sneak in and out of kids' homes undetected, but in his home, he tended to be booming and energetic. (Sandy had theorized that it was a form of compensation, venting of the natural boistrousness that he had to surpress on the job. Bunny could see his point.) This time, it took him less than a minute to accomplish.

"Ah, Sandy! Welcome, old friend!" The Sandman gave North a friendly wave as he descended from a dissolving cloud of sand. Toothiana, it seemed, was already there, chattering away with some of her fairies.

"This better be good, North!" Bunny said by way of greeting, exchanging a nod of greeting with Sandy. "Easter's in three days."

"Bunny! Good to see you!" He staggered as North clapped him on the back - sometimes, the big man didn't quite seem to know his own strength. "You know I would not summon Guardians for nothing." He paused, then dropped his voice to a near whisper, eyes wide, as he said, "He was here! The Boogeyman. At the pole!"

That was enough to drag Tooth's attention away from her own conversation. "Pitch? Pitch Black?" she asked, somewhere between incredulous and alarmed.

"Pitch went out with the Dark Ages," Bunnymund retorted. "We made sure of it. How could he be _here_?" They all had protective measures in place around their respective bases to prevent such a thing. (The Boogeyman might have been rendered all but powerless, but there was no point in _asking _for trouble.)

"He was," North afirmed. "Look, he's up to something very bad. I _feel_ it." He paused, then, very seriously, added, "In my belly!"

Bunnymund stared at him in disbelief. "You called us all here - _three days _before Easter, I might add - because of your belly? Mate, if I did this to you, three days before Christmas..."

North plucked the egg he'd subconsciously begun tossing up and down from the air - he hadn't even really noticed he was doing it - and examined it before tossing it back to him. "Bunny, Easter is not Christmas," he said as he started walking away.

"Oh, here we go," Bunnymund groused darkly. Pretty much every holiday discussion with North tended to veer in this direction. (A certain Spring Spirit had once commented that he did the same with Easter, but that - if was even true - was completely different.) "Don't give me that. You have all year to prepare! I'm working with perishables, here!"

Sandy, who had been observing in the background while drinking eggnog (several cups worth, in fact; no, he did not have a problem, why would you ask that?), noticed something. He waved his hands to get the others' attentions, but it didn't work. North and Bunny were far too involved in their bi-annual holiday discussion, while Tooth was chattering with her fairies about someone or other's teeth.

None of them noticed the Man in the Moon trying to get their attention.

"Tooth, do you mind? We are trying to argue."

"Oh, _so _sorry. Some of us don't get to work just one night a year, right Sandy?"

He abandoned his other attempts - which weren't working, and were only making him feel somewhat silly - to smile and form a sand arrow above his head, pointing up at the moon. Tooth seemed to think it was aimed at the Globe, though, as it evidently sparked something in her mind, and she whirled back to her conversation with the fairies. North and Bunny hadn't even seemed to notice the break.

Frustrated, he looked around and spotted the elf who had been trying to get at his eggnog was at it again. He grabbed it by the hat and shook it violently, the bell on top ringing noisely. Once he was _certain _he had everyone's attention, he dropped the elf to the floor with a quiet 'oof' and a jingle, and pointed up at the skylight.

Finally, _blessedly, _North got it. "Ah, Man in Moon! Sandy, why did you not say anything?"

Unnoticed - everyone was looking up at the moon, now - sand formed a representation of steam shooting from his ears.

"Manny, old friend!" North greeted the Moon with a smile. "What is news?"

Beams of moonlight shone down onto the Guardians of Childhood plaque on the floor, forming a shadow-y shape that soon resolved itself into an all-too-familiar silhouette. "It is Pitch," Bunny said with unusual gravity. "You were right," he told North, who just sort of smirked and gave his belly a pat that basically said, 'What did I tell you?'

Still, Sandy reflected, that gravity might be the proper response. Given the nebulous feelings of something being wrong that he'd been sensing, the fact that the Man in the Moon was speaking up at all... Pitch was obviously up to something beyond the normal. North looked skyward, asking, "What must be done?" That was North, Sandy thought with a smile. Not 'Can we handle this?' or 'Are you sure?', but simply asking what needed to be done, then going out and making it happen.

The beams of moonlight intensified, and the plaque split into four sections that pulled back into the floor, allowing a large crystal on a pedastel to emerge.

Tooth's eyes widened in shock. "Do you realize what this means?" she asked, then answered her own question. "He's choosing a new Guardian!"

"What do you mean, a _new _Guardian?" Bunny asked in a tone that may have been somewhere between incredulous and insecure; Sandy couldn't quite tell, and was too distracted by Manny's news to give it much thought. "Since when have _we _needed any help, am I right?"

In her excitement, Tooth didn't even seem to hear him. "I wonder who it'll be!" Seeing the four-leaf clover form over Sandy's head, she agreed, "Maybe the Leprechaun?"

Bunny started quietly chanting, "Please not the Groundhog, please not the Groundhog..."

An image began to form in the crystal. North, standing in front of it, was the first to see when it sharpened into clarity. His eyebrows shot up. "Jacqueline Frost," he exclaimed in surprise. One of Tooth's mini-fairies fainted, even as Bunny delivered his own opinion.

"...I take it back; the Groundhog's fine."


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: It occurs to me - a few chapters too late - that I never wrote an actual disclaimer for my story. Um, oops? Well, better late than never, right? I do not own _Rise of the Guardians_, though I think I can claim at least partial ownership of Jacqueline. Any OCs that show up are entirely mine, of course.)

(A/N the 2nd: It also occurs to me that I have, rather by accident, made Jacqueline a fair bit taller than movie!Jack, who is shorter than his staff. I considered fixing that, but I decided I like it that way; she's not just a gender-swapped Jack, after all. Also, to prevent confusion, she was 18-19 when she died. Now, on with the fic!)

(Edited to correct typos.)

* * *

**Santoff Clausen**

**North Pole**

"Jacqueline Frost?!" To say Bunny was having a difficult time accepting the situation would be a vast understatement. "She doesn't care about children! All she does is freeze water pipes and mess with my egg hunts! She's more likely to put a kid in a hospital than watch over them, that selfish little-"

"Guardian," North interrupted, smiling ever-so-slightly. Despite his holiday falling well within the Winter Spirit's sphere of influence, he'd never had anywhere near the problems with her that Bunny seemed to.

"Jacqueline Frost is many things." Judging by the look on his face, Bunny would have been only too happy to go into detail regarding what they were, if prompted. "But she is _not _a Guardian!"

Judging by the look on _her _face, Tooth... had something vastly different on her mind. Fortunately, she shook off her dreamy expression before someone noticed. "Even if she _does _only care about having fun, I'm sure she'll understand that there won't be much of any to be found if Pitch isn't stopped," she assured Bunny.

"Uh-huh," Bunny said flatly, unconvinced. "And then what? You think she'll just be so taken with the idea of being a Guardian, that we won't be able to get rid of her?" Actually, knowing his luck, that was a distinct possibility. She might have a short attention span, but when something _did _attract her interest, you could never get rid of her.

As could be noted by her continual interference with his egg hunts.

"What spirit would not want to be Guardian?" North asked, as if the very idea was absurd. "No, trick is getting her here to explain in first place." He stared pensively at the crystal. "Where is her home?"

"She's a nature spirit; she doesn't have one," Bunny explained. His experience with Frost's Spring counterpart - who just proved that Frost's insufferable personality wasn't due to her job, but simply being _Jacqueline Frost _- meant that he at least had some idea what they were dealing with. "She moves with her season. The little blighter does seem to pop up in one town more than any other, though." He shook his head. "Even if we _do _find her, then what? Shove her in a sack?"

North gave one of his famous belly-shaking laughs. "Yes, that is exactly what we will do! You will lead her into dark alley, then shove her into sack and throw through portal."

Bunny had to admit, sacking and tossing Jacqueline Frost _did _sound somewhat appealing. "Just a few problems with that, mate. If I'm leading, how am I going to get her into the bloody sack? If I do get her, how do I keep her? Nature can't bloody well be confined. And how am I going to even _get _her into an ally?"

"Take my yetis, they will help. I can also give you sack. Magic should hold her long enough to get back to Pole. And she is trickster, yes? She is very curious. Be mysterious, make it game. She will follow."

"Okay, but why do _I _have to do it?"

North smirked. "If you believe Jacqueline Frost is too fast for you, I can ask Sandy."

Bunny bristled, both at the suggestion that he couldn't keep up with the Frost girl, and the mere idea of _Sandy _being faster than he was. "For your sake, North, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

* * *

**Dnipropetrovsk**

**Ukraine**

_Time to have some fun._

But what would the game be this time? See how many windows she could break with a single hailstone? No, she'd already done that back in China. Make an indoor blizzard? No, she'd done that already, too. (She'd stuck around to observe the result, and delighted in just how _confused _the staff of that particular office building had been; she'd simply lost it when someone had suggested that it had obviously all been caused by a malfunction in the air conditioning system.)

Oh! She could see how far she could stretch a single line of ice before she had to lift her staff. Grinning, she tapped the end against a street sign, and off she went.

Paying no real attention to the sudden exclamations behind her as people slipped on the abruptly icy road - she felt justified; it wasn't like anyone paid any attention to _her_, after all - she raced down the street, dodging around people and obstacles. She felt a flicker of concern when she froze a water fountain just as a boy was taking a drink, but he was quickly laughing at that along with his friends, so she put it behind her.

When she ran out of street, rather than stop, she went up the side of the building in front of her. A shocked exclamation from an open window she passed told her she accidentally frozen someone's fishbowl, but she wasn't worried. Goldfish were rather hardy creatures, after all. (Besides, she hadn't frozen it solid; it was too late in the season to be throwing around _that _kind of ice.)

She ran nimbly across a clothesline stretching between buildings, icing over someone's laundry as she went. Truthfully, she was flying as much as she was running - Spider-Girl, she was _not _- so it was probably inevitable that, when she reached another open window (Why were there so many open windows in this weather?), the wind supporting her tore a cluster of papers away from some hapless teenager. Judging by his alarmed cry, that had been his homework.

Well, he should thank her. Homework - from what she'd observed over the years - was boring.

Reaching the spire atop the building, she spun around it once before finally stopping. "Now, _that _was fun," she decided. Raising her voice, she called, "Hey, wind!"

The North Wind, ever attentive, began gusting toward her.

"Take me home!" she shouted, good mood holding tight, and let the wind carry her away.

* * *

**Burgess, Pennsylvania**

**United States of America**

She adored the wind, truly she did. It was such an undemanding companion, always there for her, always willing to have fun. On the trip back to her 'home', she chattered away about all the sights she'd seen, and the games she'd played. The wind had been around for much of them, but listened anyway.

It had taken her a while to learn how to hear the wind when it talked back. Not that it spoke in words, exactly. It was more instinct, impressions. The wind wasn't much of a conversationalist, but she was more than capable of taking up the slack in _that _department.

Finally, though, Burgess was in sight. As often happened, her mind briefly conjured up the image of the small town that had once stood more or less where Burgess was now. She shook it off quickly, not wanting to dwell in the past. As a result, she wound up putting a bit more energy than she'd planned into her shout of "Snow Day!" as she descended upon the town.

While she always wanted people to be able to see and hear her, times like that gave her another reason: she would so love to see the townspeople's reactions to a voice suddenly sounding from the sky.

Besides, it seemed a shame to let her outfit go so unappreciated.

While her clothes weren't as immortal as she was, they did seem to last an inordinately long time, and take more wear and tear than they really should have been able to. That was good, since she really couldn't afford to replace her clothing as often as regular humans did. Which wasn't to say she _never _did, of course. Anything wore out eventually, and, while not fashion-obsessed, she did enjoy some variety now and then.

She'd realized quickly that, since no one could see her, she didn't really need to follow whatever the societal norms were for clothing at the time. She'd experimented with trousers early in her eternal life, and found that she liked them, but could never quite seem to find any that fit her quite right. (She wasn't _against _wearing dresses, she just liked having other options.) She'd been _**delighted **_when they'd actually started making pants specifically for women. She'd fallen in love with a pair of blue jeans that had lasted her for decades, and were falling apart by the time she finally replaced them.

With a _gorgeous _pair of dark blue leather pants.

_How _she'd gotten them had given her mixed feelings. It had been at some point in the mid-90's - keeping track of specific dates could sometimes be difficult for immortal spirits, especially for seasonal ones - when she, bored out of her mind in Seattle, had followed a young boy and his even younger sister home from school. The parents weren't home, leaving them stuck with the strangest-looking babysitter she'd _ever _seen.

The teenager had had piercings pretty much everywhere that _could _be pierced, had been wearing all leather, and her hair had been colors that Jacqueline had previously thought only existed in cotton candy.

To her irritation, the girl obviously considered watching the children to be a chore, just a _job _to do. She yelled at them when they made noise. She smoked something that was obviously _not _a cigarette. It wasn't until she actually _hit _the boy, though, that Jacqueline lost all patience, and started looking for a way in.

She got one when the teenager's boyfriend arrived, and the children were sent to their rooms.

She let them start disrobing - privately astonished at the sheer _gall _of the young woman - before she made her move. An abrupt sub-arctic chill cooled their passions pretty fast, and when sudden wind sprung up and began blowing things around the apartment, she was sure she had their attention.

She made certain to _keep _it by making one of those objects a meat cleaver from the kitchen. She had the wind embed it in a wall near a mirror, which she frosted over and wrote _**GET OUT! **_upon.

The young man, clearly not as stupid as he'd looked in his "wannabe biker" gear - she'd seen real bikers, she knew the difference - immediately gathered up his belongings and ran out the door, dressing as he went. The alleged babysitter, however...

Well, she was either the bravest woman in the city, or the stupidest, because she stood her ground. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm not afraid of you!" she sneered. Standing there in her bra and panties, she wasn't terribly imposing.

Jacqueline responded by calling up the wind again, and slamming her face-first into the wall.

Hard.

By the time she'd recovered from having her bells rung, the cleaver had worked itself out of the wall, and was hovering right over her face. Then it drew back, as if in preparation for a strike.

She wasn't _that _stupid.

Unlike her boyfriend, she didn't bother gathering up her things before fleeing. Presumably, she lived nearby, so Jacqueline didn't feel a shred of remorse.

She couldn't talk to the children, couldn't reassure them that everything was okay now, but the lack of sound from the living room - the now-demolished living room, she realized with a wince - must have clued them in. They'd slowly peeked out of their bedroom, eyes going wide as they took in the destruction. She'd erased the warning from the mirror before they became needlessly frightened, replacing it with the words _**YOU'RE SAFE NOW**_.

She'd stuck around until their mother got home, then snuck out, needing to be out of there. (It never occurred to her that, had she stuck around a little longer, or made any effort to interact with the children further, she might have had her first believers then and there.) She'd taken the discarded clothing with her, as her beloved jeans were finally starting to completely fall apart, and she'd noticed the 'babysitter' had been more-or-less her size.

The pants turned out to be just a little tight, but that was fine. She'd need a second opinion to be sure, but she felt they were wonderfully flattering to her backside. Even better, they went perfectly with the T-Shirt she'd picked up a few months ago, dark blue with a stylized white snowflake across the front. (She would plead the 5th as to whether it ever made her consider playing superhero, but she knew full well that, despite what her actions just then might have suggested, a hero she was _not_.) The black leather coat was a bit heavier than she was used to, but she could adapt. The only thing missing were boots, which she 'acquired' from a store that night.

She may not have needed shoes to stave off the cold, but, as she demonstrated on her descent upon Burgess, there were other concerns. She knew exactly how and when to spin and twirl when she bounced off of various buildings, but structures were more solid - and far pointier - than they had once been. Also, ice could be sharp, the frozen ground was often pushed up into shapes that were not comfortable to step on, and, when she wanted to go more temperate places, she needed something to protect her feet from the hot ground. She could still use her power through them, possibly because the leather - what? Why not run with the theme? - had once been alive, and that was what mattered.

She literally breezed through town, spreading cold and ice, eliciting many startled exclamations. Before long she would have to leave - Spring had gained a good, solid foothold while she was away - and she intended on going out with a bang. Since the snow on the ground was melting, she brought down more.

A lot more.

She swung by her lake, making sure to refreeze it - the ice had _not _been looking terribly solid - and accidentally tore the book out of a young boy's hands.

Oops.

She asked the wind to back off for a bit as she landed near where the book had come to a stop. It didn't mind, knowing they'd be playing again before too long. (It was even worse at keeping track of time than she was.) She glanced at the book as the boy came running up, noting with some surprise that it seemed to be about... mythological creatures and cryptozoology?

She smiled. Her kind of kid.

"That looks interesting," she remarked (uselessly) as the boy picked it up and brushed off some dirt. "Good book?"

He didn't hear her, of course, though even if he had, she wasn't sure she would have gotten a response. It took him a moment to look up even when a couple of his friends - a pair of brothers, if she wasn't mistaken - ran up, exclaiming about the snow day.

"You're welcome," she told them, almost modestly.

"You guys are coming to the egg hunt this Sunday, right?" the first kid asked, heading up a hill toward a wooden fence behind what was presumably his house.

"Yeah!" one of the brothers - she wasn't sure which one - assured him. "I just hope we can find the eggs in all this _snow_!" He seemed excited about that, at least. For her part, Jacqueline winced internally, knowing that if they couldn't, she'd be hearing about it. At length.

She let the wind pick her up and carry her along in their wake, alighting on the fence as the first boy pushed a loose board to the side and squeezed through the gap. "It says here they found Bigfoot hair samples _and _DNA in Michigan!" he exclaimed, finally looking up from his book. "That's, like, super close!"

One of his friends, after winning a brief struggle with his brother, sighed and rolled his eyes. "Here we go again..."

"You say the video, too, Claude," the first boy said, finally giving her at least one name to work with. "He's out there!"

"You probably believe in the Easter Bunny, too."

A polite scoff. "The Easter Bunny _is _real."

"Oh, he's real, alright," Jacqueline agreed as she effortlessly walked back and forth along the fence, staff balanced over her shoulders behind her neck. "Real annoying, real good at holding a grudge, and _really _full of himself." Honestly, it was hardly like she made it snow solely to annoy Bunnymund.

That was purely a bonus.

"Easter Bunny, hop, hop, hop!" a new voice interjected, and Jacqueline looked over, involuntarily smiling at the sight of the little blonde moppet hopping down the stairs. That girl, she decided, was _aggressively _cute. The munchkin stumbled on the last step, knocked off balance by the greyhound that had been following her, landing on the ground on her knees, and began to cry.

Judging by her (presumably) brother's casual reaction, this was far from the first time such a thing had happened. "Mom, Sophie fell down again."

The mother exited the house at a quick, yet unhurried pace. Jacqueline didn't pay her much attention - most adults tended to be too boring to be worth her time - as she comforted her daughter, only tuning back in as she called to her son. "Jamie, don't forget your hat," she called, standing back up and carrying the item of clothing in question to him. Okay, she had names for two of the three boys, now. If she hung around a little longer, she was sure she could learn the third.

Then Jamie's mother said the one thing she had _not _been expecting: "Don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose."

Jamie frowned in confusion. "Who's Jack Frost?"

"No one, honey. It's just an expression." With that, she headed back toward the house, while the boys slipped back through the fence.

"Hey!" Jacqueline protested indignantly. She hopped down to the ground, gathering snow in her hand and forming it into a ball. _Just an expression, hmm? _"Well, I don't know about Jack Frost, but I can tell you exactly who _Jacqueline _Frost it," she said as she breathed some of her power into the snowball, then wound back, and let it fly.

It was the one aspect of her nature that had puzzled her most, in the beginning. (It probably still would, if she actually cared enough to wonder about it, anymore.) For some reason or another, she could conjure up snowflakes - or, as in this case, convert snowballs - that would cause her target to start having fun, enjoying themselves. She couldn't make something from nothing - she'd found that out the hard way with a literally _humorless _individual back in 1890 - but she could bring to the surface what was buried.

With children, that was never very hard.

She took to the air again to catch up, confident in her aim. Sure enough, the snowball sailed through the air, dissolving into white powder as it impacted the back of Jamie's head, releasing its magical payload. As expected, rather than be upset, he laughed. "Okay, who threw that?"

"According to your mom, no one," she commented as she touched down again. In the grand tradition of children everywhere, Jamie looked around, picked someone who reasonably _could _have thrown the snowball, and retaliated.

One of his targets, a girl about his age with auburn hair, exclaimed, "Jamie Bennett! No fair!"

"You struck first!" he defended, though at this point it hardly mattered.

As Jacqueline had been hoping, a full-scale snowball fight broke out. She dashed in and around the group, conjuring up additional snowballs on the ground. "Okay, who needs ammo?" she asked, grinning. She even tossed a few snowballs of her own, dodging out of the way of one that came sailing her way by accident. It always amazed her that no one ever picked up on the extra snowballs, either on the ground or flying through the air, that had no discernible source.

Jamie had been using his sled - she almost hadn't noticed he had one with him, now - to block a few volleys from his friends, but with all of his attention on what was in front of him, he didn't notice what he was backing into until he'd tripped over the base of the snowman that had been destroyed at the start of the snowball fight. As a result, the shot that had been intended for him instead flew through empty air, until it hit another, larger girl in the back of the head. Given that she hadn't been taking part in the snowball fight, this understandably surprised and angered her.

"Crud! I hit Cupcake!" the girl who _had _been involved realized with a cringe.

"She hit Cupcake!" one of her friends agreed, pointing to her to prevent any possible suspicion from even remotely falling his way.

Cupcake - and Jacqueline really did feel for the poor girl, being saddled with a name like that - picked up the snowman's severed head, growling, and advanced ominously.

Well, that wouldn't do at all.

Hopping up on top of her staff and crouching down to give herself the best view, she swiftly conjured up another 'funball' - she really needed a better name for it than that - and nailed Cupcake in the face with it.

This, naturally, lead to even more surprised and horrified exclamations from the children, as they tried to figure out who was responsible. Jacqueline ignored them, watching Cupcake carefully. There was a chance that... But no. No, she instead began to laugh. Slowly, at first, and sounding almost surprised, but it was definitely genuine.

Jacqueline smiled, feeling pleased with herself as the kids happily welcomed the bigger girl into their game, which quickly evolved into her playfully chasing them with the snowman's head held in the air above her own.

And Jamie, she noticed, still had his sled.

That gave her an idea. (How good of an idea it was... Well, that was open for debate.) Hovering above the kids as they ran along, shrieking and laughing, she abruptly dove down, staff striking the snow-covered ground. "Careful, it's slippery!" she warned with a grin as Jamie's feet flew out from under him and he landed on his sled, momentum still carrying him swiftly forward.

Straight towards traffic.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own _Rise of the Guardians_. That, and characters recognizable from it, belong to William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation. Any OCs present, though, are naturally mine.

* * *

Jamie seemed rather alarmed; Jacqueline didn't hold it against him. That was a perfectly understandable reaction to finding yourself on a sudden collision course with a street full of cars.

Especially when you didn't know you had a psudeo-guardian angel watching over you.

Well, he'd start enjoying himself soon enough. She'd make sure of it.

"Jamie!" one of the girls behind them yelled, but there wasn't anything he could really do to stop himself, not while the icy path his sled was on kept extending itself, and the wind conspired with the angle of the ice to keep him from sliding off when it didn't go perfectly straight.

"Whoa!" he cried as people had to dodge out of his way, the sled always _just _missing hitting anything. "Crazy kid!" someone yelled at him, but it barely registered. He was heading for a mound of dirt at a road construction site (temporarily closed down due to the sudden resurgence of winter weather)... Which meant he was heading for a huge _hole_.

Right up until Jacqueline swept her staff off to the side, altering his trajectory. "Come on, keep up with me, kid! Hang a left." The sled swerved away from the pit, sending Jamie across the street - disrupting traffic and causing a truck carrying several pieces of furniture to lose its load - and up onto the sidewalk. The number of dodging pedestrians increased significantly. "That's better."

"Is that Jamie Bennett?" someone asked as they zoomed along - Jamie, on his sled and panicking; Jacqueline, hovering above and just in front of him, flying backward - but neither noticed.

"Oh, no, no, nonononono!" he exclaimed as he ducked and cringed (needlessly) away from potential obstacles.

"Oh, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyes!" she countered, grinning. A sudden swerve, back and forth, then a carefully timed pass between two shoppers... and she heard a laugh from him, looked down to see a small smile tugging at his lips. Jacqueline felt a burst of pleasure - she'd _known _he'd enjoy himself, if she gave it time - that was only slightly dampened by the fact that they were about to run out of sidewalk, forcing the runaway sled back into traffic.

And aimed right at a huge snowplow that had been sent out to deal with her 'greeting' to Burgess, which took up too much of the road to go past.

All appearances to the contrary, Jacqueline wasn't actually oblivious to the danger she'd sent young Jamie into. She'd known nothing would happen to him before, not with her right there to make sure of it. But this?

Well, she knew it was (sadly) time to bring Jamie's Wild Ride to an end. So, she decided, she would just have to make it a suitably epic conclusion.

Before Jamie had a chance to do more than gasp in alarm, his sled was abruptly redirected right at a sloping snowbank. He sailed up and over it, flying through the air, sled and all... until he crashed into another pile of snow.

Jacqueline whooped as she alighted on the base of a statue dedicated to the founder of Burgess, right in front of - or behind, depending on one's point of view - Jamie's landing site. "Oh, and he sticks the landing!" she crowed as Jamie's friends came running up. Had they been chasing the two of them all along? If so, they'd made good time. "His technique was rather shaky and unpolished, though; he may have to settle for the bronze."

The kids, concerned for Jamie's safety, started when he sprang up from the snow, wobbling back and forth for a moment. "That... was... **amazing**!" he declared, eyes wide with excitement. "Did you see that?! I don't have any idea how-"

That was as far as he got before a sofa, spilled out of the truck they'd unwittingly cut off before, abruptly crashed into him, slamming him to the ground.

Jacqueline blinked, then winced. "Ah. Knew I forgot something."

It was another few tense moments before Jamie popped back up again... holding something white and tiny over his head. "Cool, a tooth!"

"Dude, that means cash!" one of them exclaimed. She thought it was Claude, but didn't care. Heart sinking, she had a sneaking suspicion where this was going.

She was quickly proved correct as Jamie decided he was going to put it under his pillow _right now_, and all any of them could talk about was the Tooth Fairy.

The Tooth Fairy, who wasn't even there.

The Tooth Fairy, who hadn't had _anything _to do with the fun they'd been having.

The Tooth Fairy, who somehow had children all over the world believing in her, without even providing any real evidence that couldn't be explained by, say, a stealthy parent in the middle of the night. None of the so-called 'Big Four' did.

She'd just guided a boy _through downtown traffic_, yet no one seemed to find that even mildly strange.

She wondered why she bothered, sometimes. She really, truly did. She'd been both subtle and obvious, over the past three hundred years. There'd even been times she'd all but smashed her name into people's faces. The most she'd ever gotten from all her efforts had occasional mentions in Christmas songs, bizarre creations in holiday specials that _maybe _shared her name, and warnings like the one from Jamie's mother.

_Don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose._

_Close the window, don't let Jack Frost inside._

And that was another thing. Where, exactly, had people gotten this idea that she was a guy?! 'Nipping at someone's nose' just sounded stupid, but she _sort of _got it; when people bundled up, if anything was likely to be exposed, it was their faces, and their noses would feel the cold more than anything else.

But when she'd tried writing out her name for someone - the few times she'd actually done so successfully - she'd very clearly written _Jacqueline_. Yet somehow, no one had ever seemed to notice. 'Jack Frost' had become somewhat known, somehow or other, and the appellation had stuck.

Considering the sexist attitudes that had pervaded many cultures - which were only recently beginning to wane - maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. It was likely only the fact that fairies were such a girly thing that kept the Tooth Fairy from having been believed to be a man, too.

Or maybe it was Bunnymund's fault; revenge for frequently overstaying her welcome and snowing over his egg hunts. She wouldn't have been surprised.

She didn't go after the kids. There was no point to it, after all. They wouldn't see or hear her, and she had no desire to listen to more of their excited prattle about the damned Tooth Fairy.

And she _hated _it when they walked through her. There was really no worse feeling that she knew of.

She took off into the sky again, trying to pretend like there weren't tears threatening in her eyes, as snow began falling mournfully from the sky.

If she went high enough, none of the other spirits notice if she started screaming... or crying.

* * *

It wasn't until evening that she came down.

Maybe it was a sort of morbid curiosity, maybe it was due to the simple fact that there was nothing to _do _in the upper atmosphere. Whatever the reason, that night she found herself perched above the window of Jamie's bedroom, looking in as she watched the boy's mother tuck him in. Sophie was there, too, with a pair of fairy wings on her back, Jacqueline finally noticed. She couldn't hear what any of them were saying through the closed window, but the carefully arranged pillow, nightlight, _and _flashlight gave her a pretty good idea.

Jamie was planning on trying to stay up and catch the Tooth Fairy in the act.

She felt another flash of bitter resentment, which she shoved back down. "Yeah, good luck with that, kid," she remarked, smirking. In the three hundred or so years she'd been around, even _she _hadn't ever seen the real Tooth Fairy in person. The most anyone ever saw were these tiny little hummingbird-like "mini-fairies", as she'd heard them called. _They _were occasionally seen by children - rarely, but it happened - though they were clearly good at evading capture by sleepy little kids.

Sometimes, Jacqueline wondered if they didn't _let _themselves be caught in the act, solely to foster more belief in the Tooth Fairy. It seemed rather calculating to her, but considering all the Guardians operated via a bribery-based system that rewarded "good" behavior, she couldn't just ignore the possibility, either.

She watched as Mrs. Bennett gave Jamie a hug and kiss, before scooping up the giggling Sophie... Then she was watching the window frost over, filigrees spreading out from where her dangling hair had been blown by a light breeze up against the glass. It was just as well. As much as she got a warm, fuzzy feeling from watching a loving family, it also made her feel empty inside, because that was one thing she didn't - and would never - have.

She wasn't jealous, she decided as she let the wind carry her up to the roof. It just... hurt, was all.

And she had a fair idea whose fault that was.

"Is... Is there something I'm doing wrong?" she asked the moon. She'd sworn more than once that she would stop bothering trying to get an answer from above, but times like this, she couldn't help but think 'Maybe _this _time he'll answer'. "Because, seriously, I have done _everything _I can think of, and nobody _ever _sees me."

Anger abruptly blindsided her, and she clenched her fists, thrusting her staff up at the moon with a glare. "_You put me here! _I didn't ask for this, any of it! You _owe me _an explanation!"

Nothing.

As always.

"...I give up," she whispered, anger vanishing as abruptly as it had appeared, depression swiftly moving in to fill the void. "I... I just..." She shook her head, turning away.

Turning her back on the moon.

She let the wind carry her away again, not really caring where it brought her to... which was another roof in the downtown area.

It took her a few minutes to realize she wasn't alone.

The soft, gentle warmth pressing against her back was her first clue. It was only after she'd become aware of it that a quiet voice behind her, somewhere between resigned and amused, asked, "More snow, Jacqueline?"

She could feel her bad mood start to evaportate."You know me, I like to go out with a bang." She smirked. "Don't worry, you can assure the kangaroo that I have no intention of spoiling his day in the sun." She turned around. Sure enough, standing there was the Spring Spirit, Aviva.

It was always something of a surprise to see her out in the open, particularly in a public place. Aviva, she'd noticed, was one of the shyest, most reclusive spirits around. Despite their seasons intersecting, and seeing evidence of her work, Jacqueline hadn't actually encountered her until about 23 years after her 'birth' in the lake. Even then, she hadn't actually _said _much beyond her name. Real conversations didn't happen for almost a century after that.

She was always polite to her, never pushing, threatening, or any of the things she _could _easily do whenever Jacqueline overstayed her welcome. She was... nice.

They met maybe once a year on average, and, aside from the wind, Aviva was the closest thing she had to a real friend.

How sad was that?

"I'm certain that, when he gets back from whatever emergency called him away from the Warren, he'll be glad to hear that." Several inches shorter than her Winter counterpart, Aviva also had a vastly different fashion sense: All Jacqueline had ever seen her in was a simple green sundress. (The one time she'd been wearing anything on her feet, decades ago, it had been a pair of sandals.) She was tanner than Jacqueline, too... though, admittedly, that was hardly a challenge. Her hair, drawn back into its customary splayed spiral (Jacqueline would have _loved _to know how she pulled that off without a metric ton of hair gel... Maybe it had something to do with the yellow rose sticking out of the center of the spiral?) was dark red at the roots, lightening to light pink a few inches from the tips. Her eyes were a medium shade of green, which was always reassuring. (Like all the seasonal spirits, Aviva's eyecolor tended to shift when she became upset. Jacqueline's own eyes tended to remain at a neutral hazel. Supposedly, they were more blue when she was having fun, but she'd never been able to find a reflective surface in time to see for herself.) "And you know you shouldn't call him that. He's a Pooka."

"He's a... what?" Jacqueline frowned. "Never heard of them."

A deep sadness flowed across Aviva's face. "Nor would you. He's the only one left."

Jacqueline jerked back in surprise. "What?" Bunny was the only one of his kind? Well... No wonder he was always so uptight. On the other hand, she was the only Winter Spirit, she hadn't ever heard of any other sandmen running around... The list went on, but the point was the same: He really didn't have any right to take his attitude out on those who had no idea of his past. "Why? What happened?"

A sigh. "It's not my place to say."

She scoffed. "And you think _he _will?"

That earned her a small smile. "Point. Yet, he may surprise you, given time."

Somehow, she doubted that. Changing the subject, she said, "Where's your violin, anyway? I think this is the first time I've ever seen you without it." Whether in a case or in her hands, Aviva had always seemed inseparable from her beloved violin. In fact, that was how they'd first met: Jacqueline had sought out the source of the lovely music she'd been hearing. As long as no one could _see _her, the Spring Spirit evidently had no problem serenading people of any age. (Though, even there, she seemed happiest when her only audience was nature. Though, how receptive plants and animals were to such things, Jacqueline had no idea.)

"I didn't bring it. I can't exactly play anything in the middle of town at this hour, after all, now can I?" Aviva pointed out, smile still lingering.

As if in response, shining golden streamers began snaking their way down from the sky.

Jacqueline allowed herself a smile of her own. "Right on time, Sandman," she said softly. "As always." Of all the 'Big Four', Sandman was the only one she had anything resembling a positive relationship with. She'd been mystified the first few times she'd seen them, early in her existence. At first, she'd been worried for the children - whatever the gold streams were, they seemed to interact solely with kids - but it had become obvious they weren't being harmed.

Almost a month later, she'd finally encountered the Sandman.

He'd proved to be a happy fellow, dedicated to bringing the children of the world pleasant dreams, and restful sleep. That had been only one of a few times she'd seen him in person - he was a busy spirit, after all, and had the entire world to cover, by himself - but whenever they did cross paths, he'd always made time to greet her, to _acknowledge _her existence.

She appreciated that.

She reached out, running her fingers through the sand, allowing herself a delighted laugh when a dolphin materialized. She'd felt a certain kinship for the creatures ever since she'd first seen a group of them racing along in the sea, playing and laughing and _free._ They were very much like her, she thought... except they had company. Friends. Loved ones.

That must have been nice.

She smiled as the sand dolphin flipped and swished around her for a time, before vanishing back into the stream of dream sand. She sighed quietly, feeling oddly content. She felt, more than saw, Aviva shyly reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, hesitate halfway, then withdraw it again. That was nothing new, really. What _was _different, however, was her sudden squeak of surprise as something blurred between them, vanishing over the side of the roof before either could get a good look at it.

Jacqueline's reaction was automatic. After taking a moment to make sure Aviva was okay - and of course she was - she called upon the wind to pursue whoever or whatever had interrupted the tranquil moment. It wasn't like she had so many of those that it didn't matter, after all. She was aware of Aviva calling after her to be careful, absently waving a hand of acknowledgement before she was out of sight.

What she was not aware of - and would have been greatly confused by - was Aviva sighing as Jacqueline allowed herself to be baited into the trap. She wouldn't be harmed - unlike her Winter colleague, Aviva had recognized that particular blur, and he knew better than to try it - but still... "This will not end well," she remarked quietly to the surprisingly tall rabbit, wearing a flowing green robe and grass-green oval spectacles, and carrying an egg-tipped staff, who had _not _been standing next to her a second ago.

"It will end worse than you fear, but better than you hope."

"I must say, as much as I do like your past self, I look forward to the day when you outgrow such juvenile behavior." She paused. "Have we had this conversation before?" That was always an important question to ask when dealing with time-travelling Pookas, she'd found.

Aster thought about that. "We have discussed my past self and Jacqueline - that is, _I _have discussed the subject with _you._ I believe this may be the first time you've done so with me, though all of me know to be wary of your feelings where she is concerned. Except my present self, which, I suppose, is what usually brings the subject up in the first place."

Aviva nodded, not at all troubled by how little sense that seemed to make; she'd adjusted to Bunnymund's peculiarities - including his penchant for non-linear existence - a long time ago.

Subjectively speaking.

* * *

Jacqueline was getting the feeling that whoever she was chasing was toying with her. Letting her get _just _enough of a look to determine which direction he or she went, but not catch any details about her quarry.

Frankly, irritation with the whole thing was beginning to edge out curiosity.

Perhaps that was obvious to anyone skilled in reading body language, because the next time she saw the blur, it flashed into a dead-ended alley. She hovered over it for a second, but nobody came back out, or zoomed up the building at the end. It seemed she had whoever it was trapped.

And because she was just _such _a lucky individual, touched down at the edge of the alley, staff held at the ready as she slowly made her way forward. She debated just freezing the entire alley first, then moving in... But no. Whoever it was, they hadn't actually tried anything, or done anything more than startle Aviva. And even if that did seem worth icing someone to the ground over...

"Hello, mate."

She spun, staff immediately aimed at... a familiar looking, long-eared silhouette. Bunny stepped into the light of the street lamp, confirming it. "Been a long time. Blizzard of '68, I believe. Easter Sunday, wasn't it?" That hadn't been the last time they'd _seen _each other, but, prior to this, it _had _been the last time they'd exchanged words. She had a sneaking suspicion Aviva had been carefully making sure to keep them as separate as she could manage, to prevent any unpleasantries.

Evidently, Bunny had decided he didn't want to cooperate with that plan, anymore.

She felt a turbulent flux of emotions, recently acquired knowledge about him being the last survivor of his species clashing with memories of Bunny's general unpleasantness when she was around. She shoved it all aside for the moment, to be sorted out later. " Bunny," she greeted him pleasantly enough, leaning on her staff with a deceptively casual air. "You're not still mad about _that, _are you?" It had been ages ago, after all.

"Yes, " he said simply. Looking casually down at his drawn boomerang, he continued, "But this is about something else." At her look of confusion, he added, "Fellas?"

And then her staff was being torn from her hand, even as a bag - Seriously? A bag? - was swept down over her head, knocking her off her feet and enclosing her in cloth.

She'd just been _sacked_? Oh, someone was going to **pay** for this...

Over her own shouts as she _demanded _her release, she could just hear someone's garbled speech - Why did it sound so familiar? (No, that couldn't be right...) - and Bunny dismissing what was evidently an offer of some kind, and this had all _**stopped **_being amusing, and she wanted _**out.**_

_**NOW.**_

The bag was resisting her power, somehow - What _was _this thing made of? - but she could feel it succumbing to her cold touch... Then the world was turned inside-out, or something, and her stomach tried to escape through her nose. She took a moment to recover from whatever _that _had been, then resumed her efforts to escape. The cloth was becoming extremely brittle, especially...

There! She balled up her fist and punched, shattering the sack... and nailing something small in the chest, sending it flying.

Wait...

Had that been an elf? An actual, honest to goodness, Santa's helper _elf_?

"There she is!" a voice behind her boomed. "Jack Frost!"

She turned... and the automatic correction died on her lips as she realized that yes, she must have punched an elf, after all.

Because standing there, looking jolly as all get-out, was Saint Nick himself.

"Oh, you're not serious," she muttered, looking around. The huge, scale-model globe was interesting, she supposed, but...

What?

"I hope the yetis treated you well," Santa - or North, she thought he was usually called - continued.

"Oh, yeah, I just _love _being tossed in a sack and shoved through a magic portal," she groused. Now that she knew where she was, she could easily guess what had just happened, and realize that, yes, that _had _been yeti-speak she'd heard before. She held out a hand, and her staff - still being held by the yeti that had taken it, who had been examining it closely - flared blue and tore itself away from its yeti kidnapper, sailing through the air to land in her palm with a smack of wood on flesh. She felt some tension drain out of her, now that she had it back in her possession.

"Oh, good," North replied obliviously. "That was my idea."

"Was it, now?" _Selecting target..._

"You obviously know Bunny," he continued, gesturing toward the sullen Pooka standing off to the side.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do." She shook her head. "Oh, I know all of you. But who doesn't, right? And here you are, the 'Big Four', all together. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Sandman, and the Easter Kangaroo," she said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

"The- The what?" Bunny sputtered, finally losing the 'bored & irritated' expression. "I'm a bunny."

She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. "No."

"'No'? Wha-" For a moment, he was too flabbergasted to reply. "What do ya mean 'no', ya drongo?"

Idly wondering what in hell he'd just called her, she ultimately dismissed it as unimportant. "I mean, bunnies are small, and cute." She pointed at him. "You are neither of these things." She walked away from the flustered Pooka, bored with the conversation. "Now, I just _know _someone wants to tell me what I'm doing here. I mean, if was just the kangaroo, I'd get it." She carefully managed not to smile at his strangled noises of indignation. "This close to Easter? No real mystery there. But I must have done something pretty bad to get all four of you in on this." She stopped, tilting her head as a random thought occurred to her, and asked, "Am I on the Naughty List?"

"_On _Naughty List?" North echoed. "You hold record."

She felt perversely pleased with herself, but was compelled to add, "Well, yeah, if the kids had as much time to work with as I do..."

"Spirits are kept on separate lists."

"Really? Huh." She wondered why he bothered, if only children that believed in him got any gifts at all. Then something else occurred to her. "Who's behind me, then? That Halloween guy? I would have expected him to be leading, what with the whole '_trick_-or-treat' thing."

"Samhain? He is in second place, yes. But he only has one day a year to work with."

"Oy!" Bunny broke in. "Are we gonna be standing around here, chatting about what a brat she is all night?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, but conceded the point. "Well, if someone ever feels like letting me know why you dragged me all the way up to the north pole..."

Sandman evidently did... she thought. The sand pictures that formed above his head came and went too quickly for her to be able to tell what any of them were. "That's... That's not really helping," she said apologetically. "I do appreciate the effort, though." And... And now there was something on her own head. She swatted at it vaguely, dislodging one of the mini-fairies that had been hovering near the Tooth Fairy. It chirped at her happily. "Um... what?"

Tooth zipped over, uncomfortably close. "It is so good to meet you," she said, which might have been a translation, or just a statement of her own. "I've heard a lot about you," she continued, unnervingly chipper. "And your _teeth_!"

"My... My what?"

"Are they really as white as they say?" Fingers - slender and delicate, yet surprisingly strong - were abruptly prying her mouth open. Her teeth must have passed muster, because Tooth drew back, beaming at her as if she was the very best thing in the world. "Oh, they really _do _sparkle like freshly fallen snow."

One of the mini-fairies made a flailing motion, chirping something else, and another one swooned. Jacqueline shot a confused look at Sandman, who formed a sand image of someone playing an electric guitar over his head. Her teeth made her a rockstar in the tooth fairy world? She smiled, despite herself. That almost made up for the lousy end to the snow day she'd been having earlier. "Okay, now, _really._ Why invite the record holder of the Naughty List for spirits to your base?"

"That is no matter. Now we are wiping clean the slate," North assured her, brushing off the 'NAUGHTY' tattoo on his arm.

"Oh, really?" Because _that _didn't sound suspicious at all. "And why's that?"

"Finally, a good question," Bunny grumped.

"'Why'? I _tell _you why." Then North said the one thing she would _never _have expected to hear.

"Because now, you are Guardian!"

* * *

(A/N) The name Aviva is Hebrew in origin, and means "Joyful Spring".


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own _Rise of the Guardians_. That, and characters recognizable from it, belong to William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation. Any OCs present, though, are naturally mine.

(Um, wow, this is late. Long story short, things have been kind of nuts around here. Very sorry - though, believe me, I would much rather have been able to sit down and write than what I _have _been having to deal with.)

* * *

"...what?" She couldn't have heard that right. North _couldn't _have just said what she'd thought she heard. That didn't even make any _sense._

Yet, the elves that were all around - damn, those little buggers were sneaky - with trumpets abruptly erupted into fanfare, which, in combination with the yetis twirling batons with torches at both ends, made her take several startled steps backward. "What?" she repeated, incredulity growing. She stumbled into a yeti, who just set her back upright, brushing a few stray fragments of the sack she'd shattered off her back.

"It's the best part!" she thought she heard North say excitedly - even his supposed whispers were loud enough to be heard above strident fanfare - but when she turned to look, he was being handed a thick, ornate-looking hardcover book. He was doing his best to appear regal and dignified... and she realized they were serious. They actually wanted to make her... a Guardian.

Her.

Was everyone here very stoned? Maybe they were all snorting fairy dust, or something?

Regardless of whatever horrible decision making process had prompted this, the fact remained that they had decided she was going to be a Guardian, and were setting about inducting her... without ever actually _asking _her about it. They hadn't even bothered letting her in on what was happening until the literal last possible minute. "Hey!" she snapped, trying to get someone's attention. Her anger only grew as she was ignored.

Of course, the Guardians had ignored her most of her existence. Even now, when they were trying to _make her one of them_, they _still _ignored her.

Patience was never her strongest suit, and she'd just hit her limit. She raised her staff - _now _North seemed to notice her, but too little, too late on that one - and slammed it to the ground, the arctic gale she'd summoned sending elves sliding across the abruptly icy floor, extinguishing the torches, and smacking that stupid book into North's face.

Shocked quiet descended upon the room.

"What?" she asked again, tone flat. "What makes you think I even _want _to be a Guardian?"

From all the stunned expressions she was getting, one would think she'd started speaking gibberish. Finally, North gave one of his booming laughs. "Of course you do," he replied, and the (presumably) accidental smug, patronising tone in his voice made her grip on her temper a tenuous thing. "Music!"

Before the elves could blare more than a couple notes, she brandished her staff at them and commanded, "No music!" They instantly lowered their instruments, one dejected elf even throwing his trumpet onto the floor, giving another elf a shove, and stalking off. She might have felt bad about that, had she not been so angry... and baffled. What was going _on _here? "Is... Is this some kind of twisted joke? You don't want me." She shook her head, perching on the railing near the globe. "You guys are all about the deadlines, and the _jobs_. Nature doesn't work that way, and I _definitely _don't. I'm not a Guardian."

"For once, you and I are in complete agreement, Frost," Bunny said.

The Tooth Fairy - further displaying her lack of understanding regarding the concept of personal space - darted up to her. "Jack, I don't think-"

"Jacqueline," she interrupted testily.

"What?"

"My name is _Jacqueline,_ goddammit!" She glared. "You know, it's things like that which have everyone believing I'm a man."

Tooth winced. "Sorry. Um, Jacqueline, I don't think you understand just what it is we do." She gestured up at the globe. "Each of those lights is a child."

"A child who _believes,_" North clarified. "And good or bad, naughty or nice, we protect them." Jacqueline's reply was short and incoherent. When he looked over to see what the problem was, North just managed not to sigh. "Tooth. Fingers out of mouth."

She blushed. "Sorry," she told Jacqueline, withdrawing her hands. "They're beautiful," she added with a dreamy smile, before (finally) moving away.

North evidently felt it was time to get the meeting back on track. "Okay, no more wishy-washy. Pitch is out there doing who knows what!"

Whatever response the Guardians had expected from her at that revelation, it likely wasn't laughter.

"Pitch?" she chortled. "You mean, the... the Boogeyman?"

The Guardians were momentarily at a loss as how to handle the giggling Winter Spirit, then Bunny shook his head. "This ain't a laughing matter, Frostbite."

"Why not?" she countered, still chuckling. "I thought that was your strategy for dealing with him; make the Boogeyman into a joke, so that on one takes him seriously, and nobody believes in him, so that he can't do anything. Right?"

"...yes," Bunny reluctantly conceded.

"But that is no longer working," North added.

"When Pitch threatens us, he threatens the children we protect, as well," Tooth chimed in.

Sandy... looked very earnest.

Jacqueline finally managed to stop laughing, but her lips were still twitching a bit as she negligently waved a hand. "All the more reason to go pick someone more qualified, then, don't you think?" she asked, before hopping off the railing and heading for the door. She'd been trying to get into Santoff Claussen for _ages_, after all, and didn't want to waste this opportunity.

"Pick? You think _we _pick?" North asked. "No. You were _chosen,_ like we were all chosen. By Man in Moon."

_That _stopped her cold, and wiped away any lingering traces of humor. "_**What.**_" Her fists clenched at her sides, and her eyes, glowing with a faint white light, narrowed to slits. Anyone who _really _knew seasonal spirits would know that, when they started looking like _that_, it was best to be several _states _away. Or on a different continent, if it could be managed.

Sadly, the only one there with any real experience with a seasonal avatar was Bunny, and that was with the kind and gentle Aviva.

"Last night, Jack- Um, Jacqueline," Tooth told her, unaware of the danger brewing. She didn't understand the look of cold fury on the other woman's face. "He chose you."

"Maybe," Bunny added.

"The Man in the Moon... talks to you?" She seemed to be having trouble getting past that point, and the temperature in the room began to plummet.

"You see? You cannot say no," North said, oblivious as ever. "It is destiny."

"No," she said softly, as if just to be contrary. Before anyone could say as much, though, she continued. "No," she said again, louder. Her fists clenched tighter, and Bunny's keen hearing picked up what sounded like her staff creaking ever so slightly in her grip. Considering that her power made it fairly indestructible, this was alarming. "No, this isn't... You can't be serious," she spat, glaring hatefully out the skylight, up at the moon. "For _three hundred _fucking years, I have asked, pleaded, begged, _screamed _for an explanation, for a _reason _for why you put me here... and you ignored me at every turn. But now that there's a threat, and you feel that your Guardians aren't up to snuff, I'm supposed to just gleefully leap into eternal servitude because of something you told _someone else_? Even then - **even then!** - you won't say one word to me? Oh, you can just go _**straight to hell!**_" She began stalking toward the door. "Where the hell's the exit?"

Bunny, the first to shake off his shock at her outburst, did something quite possibly foolish, and placed himself directly in her path. "Not so fast, sheila."

She paused, fixing him with a subarctic glare. "What? Are you going to pretend you _want _me to join your little club?"

"Hardly. Truthfully, I think we dodged a bullet. But I'm not gonna just stand around and let you mouth off about things you obviously don't understand."

"All the more reason to let me leave, then." When he didn't move, her glare intensified. "I mean it, Bunnymund. Move, or there will be _no _Pookas left on Earth."

"Oh, I'd like to see you-"

"Bunny!" Tooth interjected. The fact that many nearby surfaces - including her _feathers _- were beginning to frost over had clued her into just how little it would take to push Jacqueline right over the edge. They had enough trouble with Pitch; they didn't need to start any _more _fights. "Enough!"

North, for his part, put a hand on the seething Winter Spirit's shoulder and began leading her away. "Jack- Er, Jacqueline, come with me."

She allowed the physical contact until they reached the elevator, then brushed his hand off. "Look, North, I get that you mean well, and I can even appreciate that you think you're doing something nice, but even if I was interested, I think you just got a good demonstration of one of the many reasons it would be a disaster of unmitigated proportions."

He waved that off. "What, Bunny? Bah! Bunny can speak without thinking, and often be disagreeable - keeps insisting _Easter _could ever compete with _Christmas_! - but is Guardian to the core: courageous and caring, and absolutely dedicated to children's wellbeing."

"So, what, he's not a total loss? I don't care." She took a deep breath, trying to get her temper under control. Just because the Man in the Moon was an asshole, that didn't mean the Guardians themselves weren't forces for good in the world. Given how much time she spent around children, she _was _glad someone was looking out for them. "What you do, here... It isn't me."

"Man in Moon says it is you."

"Oh, _does _he? Well, I have officially stopped _caring _what he thinks." Then the elevator opened onto what looked like the production floor of the workshop, and she was immediately distracted from her fuming.

It was like some kind of wonderland. Toys of every shape and size were everywhere, many in various stages of construction. Yetis were everywhere, working on the toys, moving them here and there... Her eyes tracked a swooping airplane through the air, and she didn't notice North was moving again until she heard him call, "Come, Jacqueline! Keep up!"

She was so distracted, it didn't even occur to her to inform him that she was not a Border Collie. She rejoined him quickly, but continued taking in her surroundings in amazement. "Slow down, will you?" she requested. "I've been trying to bust in here for a hundred and fifty years; I wanna get a good look around."

"What do you mean, 'bust in'?"

"Relax. I never got past the yetis." Spotting a familiar face, she added casually, "Oh, hey, Phil."

Phil fixed her with a mock scowl and mimed punching his hand. She nearly smiled, despite everything. That wasn't a threat so much as it was an inside joke; in all her uncounted - well, _she _hadn't counted, anyway - break-in attempts, Phil had never once gotten violent with her. In turn, she had never struck at him or his fellow yetis with her power (iced floors totally didn't count). It had gotten to be, well, a game.

And as the saying went, it wasn't about who won or lost, but how it was played.

North lead her to his private workroom - she couldn't really call it an office, given what it was obviously used for - and she gazed around in amazement. The room seemed to have been carved out of the glacier itself, and there were even blocks of ice laying here and there, out of which North evidently carved models of new toys.

Like most spirits, she'd heard he'd long ago learned Atlantean magic from some old wizard named Ombric - which had no doubt lead to her oh-so-delightful "bag down a laundry chute" experience earlier - but to actually see where he practiced his craft...

Wow.

"Fruitcake?"

"What did you-?" Oh, wait. He was offering her a fruitcake, not _calling _her that. "Ah... no, thanks."

North shrugged, tossing the fruitcake off to the side with a clatter. The few elves in the room raced after it, making Jacqueline wonder if North ever _fed _the poor things. He then punched a fist, popping his knuckles. "Now we get down to tacks of brass."

She had about a second to puzzle that one over, then the door slammed shut behind her, the large lock on it clicking shut. Before she had a chance to get indignant about that, North was right there, in her face. "Who are you?"

The crook of her staff pressing against his throat made him stop before he had her pinned against the door. "Does everyone around here have no idea what the term 'personal space' means?" she demanded crossly. "Now, what are you _talking _about?"

North wisely eased back a step, but didn't relent. "Who are you, Jacqueline Frost? What is your center?"

Huh? "My- My center?"

North peered at her closely. "If Man in Moon chose you to be a Guardian, you must have something very special inside." He drew back, looking thoughtful, then moved to the side - Jacqueline took the opportunity to move away from the door - and picked something up from one of the crowded shelves. (Truthfully, just about every flat surface was covered with assorted tools and knick-knacks, which was the only reason she was still standing on the floor. Still, it looked more busy than slobby.) "This is how you see me, no?" he asked, holding a Russian _matryoshka_ doll painted to look like a stern Santa out to her. She took it - only somewhat reluctantly - as he continued, "Very big, intimidating... But if you get to know me a little... Well, go on."

Deciding she may as well play along, if only to speed this up, she twisted open the doll, revealing a distinctly happier-looking Santa underneath. "You are downright jolly?"

"But not _just _jolly." Oh, good grief, they were going to have to go through all of them, weren't they? Oh, fine, then. She set down the first top piece on the table behind her, and removed the next, showing her... Ninja Santa? "I am also mysterious..." And constipated? "And fearless..."

She set down all the other pieces, leaving her with a weepy Santa. "And caring..."

_Yeah, great. People have layers. Tell me something I don't know._

"And at my center..." Relieved they were finally almost done, Jacqueline pulled the last top piece off to find... nothing? No, wait... She peered into the bottom piece, showing her that there _was _something there. Tipping it up, she spilled the object into her hand to find... "...you're a tiny wooden baby," she sighed.

"Look closer. What do you see?" And it turned out North _did _have an indoor voice, even if he rarely used it.

Having no idea what she was supposed to say to that, she tried, "You have big eyes?"

"Yes!" Ooo, first try! "Big eyes, very big! Because they are full of wonder. _That _is my center," North explained, directing her attention to the now moving toys around the room. "It is what I was born with - eyes that have always seen the wonder in _everything_!" Her own eyes followed one of the models - it looked like a bird of some kind - out the opening door, where it flitted off to play with all the other toys flying through the air. And...

Yeah.

Okay.

So maybe that was pretty cool.

"Eyes that see lights in the trees, and magic in the air!" North left the workroom, moving out onto the balcony that encircled the Globe room. "Wonder is what I put into the world; and what I protect in children. That is what makes me a Guardian. It is my center." Having fully explained himself, he repeated his earlier question. "What is yours?"

Jacqueline... didn't have an answer. "I... I don't know. The only thing I've ever found when looking inside myself is Winter, and that... Children wouldn't be _safe _if I let that out; **no one **would."

North, thank goodness, actually seemed to _get _that. Maybe he'd known the previous Winter Spirit; she had no idea.

Before she could even open her mouth to ask about that, a number of _somethings _buzzed past the window of North's workroom. She had exactly two seconds to puzzle over that, then Bunny hopped up. "We have a problem, mate," he told North gravely, seemingly ignoring her completely.

All things considered, that was probably for the best.

"There's trouble at the Tooth Palace."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own _Rise of the Guardians_. That, and characters recognizable from it, belong to William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation. Any OCs present, though, are naturally mine.

(When I said nuts last time, I meant it. But, since I'm not being distracted by pain anymore, on with the show!)

* * *

No one really had any information about what was happening at the Tooth Palace, beyond "trouble". Understandably, the Guardians were less than satisfied with this, and immediately set about preparing to travel there, to help their friend.

Somewhat less understandably, they kept insisting Jacqueline joined them in doing so.

"Are you even listening to me?" she demanded of North as they bustled out a door into the refreshing (to her) cold of the Arctic. "I'm not going with you!" The yetis - and the Sandman, for that matter - following along behind them meant she couldn't just stop in her tracks and let them pass by. North shouted something in Russian, which she took to be commands to the yetis, and seemingly ignored her.

They weren't outdoors, yet, but the tunnel that stretched off into the distance told her that they were much closer. If she could just get a little elbow room, she could take off, and be long gone before they had a chance of coming after her. The wind, happy that it could reach her now - if wind could be said to have an emotional state, that was - reached out with a tendril of air, brushing against her face, letting her know it was there. It helped.

"Fine with me," Bunny snapped. Curiously, he didn't seem to appreciate her attitude. Even more curiously, she couldn't seem to care. "The last thing we need is an amateur like you bungling about in the middle of a serious fight."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure villains of the world just quake in terror of the mighty _Easter Bunny_," she said scornfully, rolling her eyes.

"Pretty big talk, coming from someone who can't even manage to get a single child to believe in her," Bunny shot back.

She was quiet for a long moment - that was _not _a subject she enjoyed being brought up - then countered, "Aren't rabbits a _plague _in Australia?"

They were interrupted by Sandy floating up between them, forcing the two to take a step away from each other, and giving them both a reproachful look.

"Don't give me that," Jackie told him, trying not to sound defensive. "I told North this was a bad idea."

A multitude of shapes and symbols flashed above Sandy's head, one after another, though slower than the last time he'd tried 'talking' to her - he'd been a bit too excited then to be patient enough - and she struggled to understand what he was telling her. "Look, I get that you're worried about your friend, and I hardly want anything bad to happen to her-" It wasn't like that would suddenly make the children of the world notice her, or anything... "-but you four have been taking on Pitch since before I ever existed, from what I understand. Why would you need me now?"

Tiny sand figures shot at each other with miniscule sand weapons, sand buildings collapsed, tiny bursts of sand mimicking explosions... "Okay, yeah. There's more fear in the world these days, sure. But really, what about that would make me want to..." She was distracted by large doors in the nearby glacier wall. "...want to climb into some rickety old..." Reindeer, larger than she remembered them being, began to emerge, forcing more than one yeti to duck out of the way of hooves as one of them reared back, pawing at the air. "...wooden..."

_It _emerged.

"...sleigh?"

She'd seen North's sleigh before, on the rare occasions they'd crossed paths. She couldn't recall it ever looking like _this._ This sleigh was sleek, had a miniature version of the Globe built into the front dash, small wings that unfolded and settled into place with a whir of hydraulics, and several bleacher-like seats that appeared from within the back of the passenger area (where, presumably, on Christmas Eve, the Bag of Toys would go, instead).

North, standing near where she'd ended up as she'd moved forward in astonishment, said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow at her expectantly.

A beat passed.

"...okay, _one _ride, but that's it," she insisted as she climbed aboard.

"_Everyone _loves the sleigh," North said to Bunny - and right then, Jacqueline had no problem with the overgrown rabbit being taken down a peg, even if only in such a small fashion - before following suit. Sandy needed no invitation, clambering up into the rear compartment, and settling onto the middle seat. This left just one conspicuous absence.

"Bunny, _what _are you waiting for?" North asked as he took up the reins.

"I think my tunnels might be faster, mate," Bunny replied, sounding distinctly nervous as he gave the sleigh a couple of taps with his foot. "And, um, and safer."

"Ack! Get in!" And really, it was nice to see that it wasn't only her protests that North ignored. Not that she'd thought it was personal before, but still... She tried not to smile as North picked up Bunny and bodily deposited him into the back of the sleigh. "Buckle up!"

Bunny looked around the sleigh frantically. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, where're the bloody seatbelts?!"

"HA! That was just expression!"

Okay, his boss might have been a dick, but she was starting to like North.

"Are we ready?" Phil, who had been doing something with the mini-Globe, looked up in alarm, shaking his head, waving his arms back and forth, and gibbering something in Yeti-speak that was undoubtably a 'no'. North ignored him, too. "Let's go!" he declared, cracking the reins. Elves scattered as the reindeer took off, jerking the sleigh into sudden motion. Bunny made some kind of sound - not quite a groan, not quite a whimper, but somewhere in the middle - and slapped a paw on the nearest armrest, claws digging furrows in the paint.

Jacqueline snickered quietly. He didn't seem to notice.

The sleigh ride quickly proved to be far too enjoyable to remain focused on the overgrown rabbit for long. The speed, the twists and turns, the icicle stalagmites and stalactites that they'd _just _miss... Theme park owners would _kill _for a roller coaster like this.

"I hope you like the loop-de-loops!" North called back to them.

"I hope you like carrots!" Bunny countered. Idly, Jackie wondered how green he would look right then, had his skin not been covered by fur.

Then the sleigh went through the promised loop, and she no longer cared.

Catching sight of Sandy holding his arms over his head and looking excited - at least _he _got it - she eagerly moved up to the edge of the sleigh, whooping joyfully as they reached the end of the runway, and were then airborne.

She made a mental note to try this again sometime, with just the wind for support. She had no doubt it would be _**SO**_ much fun.

Bunnymund, for his part, was having trouble doing much more than laying sprawled on the floor of the sleigh, groaning. He did manage to scrape together the presence of mind to glare at her as she breezed past to perch on the back of the sleigh, though. (Some things were worth the effort.) She didn't seem to notice, instead commenting, "Bunny, check out this view!"

Then she was blown over the side.

Bunny's heart abruptly began trying to beat out of his chest, and he looked around wildly. How had no one else noticed Frost's sudden departure?! "Ah, North... She..." No good. North was too busy driving the sleigh to pick up on the fact that he was now minus one passenger. Steeling himself, Bunnymund managed to stand and peer over the side, looking down at the very, very distant ground...

...and at Frost, who was reclining on one of the sleigh's skis. "Aw, you _do _care," she cooed, smirking.

Expression twisting in annoyance - they did _not _have time for her games (and that it had been at his expense didn't help) - he shot back, "Oh, rack off, you bloody show pony!"

Frost climbed back into the sleigh as North announced, "Hold on, everyone, I know a shortcut!"

He now had Jacqueline's full attention.

Many spirits, especially those with jobs that took them all over the world, had certain methods of transportation that allowed them to "cheat", or temporarily side-step the laws of physics, Bunny's tunnels being just one example. In theory, so did she - or, at least, she was supposed to. Unlike every other seasonal spirit, however, she'd been brought into existence by the Man in the Moon, rather than Gaia, and he hadn't quite gotten a number of things correct. Gaia had made some after the fact corrections, but that could only go so far. As such, she was always interested in seeing how other spirits got around, if only out of curiosity.

Besides, given her earlier abduction by North's yetis, she wanted to know how they'd done it. If only to prevent a reoccurrence.

Ignoring Bunny's muttering something about his tunnels - really, everyone seemed to be ignoring it - North pulled out a snowglobe and held it up to his face. "I say: Tooth Palace," he said softly, then threw it in front of the sleigh.

Where it seemingly exploded, forming a hole in the air.

Whether it was because she could see what was happening, or just because she'd had a chance to brace herself, this trip wasn't _nearly _as bad as the first one. A brief moment of disorientation, and they were through. In front of them stood the huge form of the Tooth Palace.

Between it and them, however, was a horde of black shapes.

"What?" North asked, baffled but wary, as they plowed right into the... flying horses? The combined speeds of the sleigh and the creatures meant it was rather difficult to get a good look at them - the evasive maneuvers that North was making to avoid any collisions wasn't helping with that - but from what Jacqueline could tell, they were, indeed, flying horses. One of them would up plowing right into an umbrella that Sandy had conjured up, poofing out of existence. And they were... Wait. Were they seriously...? "They're taking the tooth fairies!" she exclaimed in disbelief. Catching sight of one mini-fairy desperately twisting and dodging to avoid being swallowed up by the horses like so many others had, she didn't even stop to think, launching herself into the air to snatch the poor thing up before it could be gulped down.

Landing back in the sleigh, she cupped her hands and looked at the shivering fairy, curled up in a tiny ball, who was seemingly just noticing she hadn't been eaten. "Hey, little Baby Tooth. You okay?" The poor thing chirped and nodded, evidently in too much shock to even notice she'd just been rescued by the owner of THOSE teeth.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, though, a vague, half-formed notion that her sisters would be _**SO **_jealous formed.

The sleigh approached the Tooth Palace, zooming around corners and past spires and platforms and towers that had clearly been constructed with the knowledge that everyone who lived there could fly. It was definitely impressive, and Jackie found herself wishing that she'd visited before this.

Or that she would have been _allowed _to visit, anyway.

She hadn't exactly been in any danger of sliding into self-pity right then, but North accidentally made sure that wouldn't happen by providing a _very _good distraction. "Here, take over!" he said gruffly, thrusting the sleigh's reins into Jacqueline's hands. The newly dubbed Baby Tooth zipped over to hide under Jackie's hair.

"Uh..." Her? Fly the sleigh? Had North thought Bunny was standing next to him, or something? Oh, well. How hard could it be, right? "Yah!" she exclaimed, whipping the reins. The reindeer seemed to have an idea of what was going on, so she fortunately didn't have to do _too _much in the way of steering.

North, meanwhile, had jumped up on the front of the sleigh, sword in hand, and slashed at any of the freaky horse things that got too close. One unfortunate equine dumped its remains into the sleigh - not one that had any fairies locked up in its "rib cage" though. She snuck a quick look - couldn't take her eyes of the "road" for too long - but she caught a glimpse of a couple canisters and some black sand. "They're stealing the teeth!" Bunny exclaimed, giving her a clue as to what the first had been. As for the sand...

"Jack, look out!"

Oops. Maybe she'd let herself get a bit _too _distracted, after all. She yanked hard on the reins, all the while wondering why the reindeer hadn't been showing any signs of noticing that staircase themselves, and managed a somewhat rough landing on one of the platforms.

Not too bad for her first attempt, she decided.

Now that they were able to stop and look around, the Guardians quickly spotted Tooth herself, panting in desperation as she zipped from one tower to another, visibly not finding anything she was looking for. "Tooth! Are you all right?" North called as everyone hopped out of the sleigh.

Jacqueline took a few moments longer than the others. Not out of any reluctance to get involved, or because she didn't care about the Tooth Fairy's problems - though she was all too aware that, had their positions been reversed, no one here would have been zooming to _her _rescue - but because she wanted to get a better look at what the horse-thing had dropped.

The sand was only that: sand. Lifeless and inert, and, unusual color aside, boring. The canisters... Each had a child's face on one end, and a curious pattern on the top. Was that where they opened? Actually, _how _did they open? They didn't seem to have any hinges or latches or anything.

"They... They took my fairies," Tooth was saying anxiously, so Jacqueline grabbed the canisters and jumped out of the sleigh, flying the short distance to where the others were standing. Tooth was still twisting in the air and looking around, as if she might have possibly missed something. "And the teeth, all of them!" She began fluttering down to a slightly higher nearby platform, and the Guardians immediately climbed up to meet her. "Everything is gone. Everything!" She touched down, sitting in a forlorn heap, legs curled up underneath her, with her friends gathering close to offer sympathy.

Taking that as her cue, Jacqueline cleared her throat, holding up the two canisters when Tooth's distant purple eyes focused more or less on her. Baby Tooth zipped out from underneath her hair and instantly flew up to her 'mom'.

Tooth's wings buzzed in excitement, and she tenderly cradled the mini-fairy. "Oh, thank goodness! One of you is alright. And Jacqueline, you... I..."

Before Jacqueline had a chance to tell her that North was the one who'd gotten the teeth back - however unintentionally - they were interrupted by an entirely unwelcome voice.

"I have to say, this is very, very exciting."

Weapons were brandished as everyone began to look for the unseen speaker.

"The Big Four, all in one place," he continued - and really, no one had any doubt as to who it was. "I'm a little star-struck." The next time Pitch spoke, it was coming from a definite direction: right above them. "Did you like my show on the Globe, North?" he asked, peering down at them from a higher platform on the same tower as theirs. "Got you all together, didn't I?"

While North cursed, understandably angry with himself for falling for such an obvious trap, Tooth had other concerns. "Pitch! You have got THIRTY SECONDS to return my fairies!" she shouted as she flew up and around the tower... to find nothing.

"Or what?" Pitch's disembodied voice asked, before he emerged from the shadows on a platform well out of lunging range. "You'll put a quarter under my pillow?"

"Why are you doing this?" North demanded. It was an entirely reasonably question. Spirits and sprites and other such creatures didn't always get along, but even when they fought, they confined their disagreements to their own world. Getting humans involved, or screwing with the belief in another spirit... It wasn't just unheard of, it was almost unthinkable.

Belief was a tricky thing, after all. If children stopped believing in one spirit, what would keep them certain of the existence of others? Even the most selfish spirits wouldn't possibly jeopardize their own well-being in such a fashion.

And, of course, those who were believed in by children usually _cared _about the kids. Even Jacqueline, at the height of her misery, wouldn't have harmed the little ones by robbing them of their innocence.

Pitch, it seemed, simply didn't care. "Maybe I want what you have," he replied, an old anger simmering in his eyes. "To be _believed in_."

Jacqueline grimaced. She really, really didn't want to sympathize with this jerk.

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding under beds!" he added, shifting to a different platform.

"Maybe that's where you belong!" Bunny countered, only to be met with a dismissive noise from the underside of their own platform.

"Go suck an egg, rabbit," Pitch said, sounding bored. Tellingly, though, he melted back into the shadows before Bunny could manage to swipe at him.

"Hang on... Is that little Jacqueline Frost down there?"

Oh, good. Because she'd been just so _hoping _to have to exchange banter with the flipping Boogeyman.

He laughed, but she would have needed to care about his opinion of her - or about him at all - for that to matter. She'd tucked the tooth canisters into an inner pocket of her coat so she could properly wield her staff - just because she didn't take him too seriously, that didn't mean she was stupid - but didn't bother looking around for him. He'd show himself when he felt like it, and not one second before. "Since when are you all so chummy."

"We're really not." Offer to join or not, once things were resolved here, she was SO gone. Spending time with the Man in the Moon's flunkies was really not how she wanted to spend her off-season.

"Oh, good. A neutral party." And now he was behind her, leaning against an intricate framework dome. "Then, I'm just going to ignore you. But I suppose you're used to that."

Jacqueline quietly seethed - really, did _everyone _have to hammer at that one sore spot? - but surprisingly, the resultant explosion did not come from her.

"Pitch! You stinking ratbag, come here!" Bunny shouted, leaping down to their platform and charging.

Not quite fast enough to keep Pitch from melting into the shadows again, though.

However, this time the Guardians seemed to have been expecting it. Tooth flew down, grabbed a boomerang from off of Bunny's back, and zoomed right back toward the upper platform with a yell of challenge. This time, Pitch didn't move.

He didn't have to. One of the black sand horses surged up between them, rearing back with a screamed whinny of its own. Tooth recoiled with a gasp, and Baby Tooth darted back under Jackie's hair.

"Whoa-ho-ho!" Pitch laughed, patting the side of the new arrival. Now that it was mostly stationary, one could see it had what looked to be streamers of black sand flowing in a non-existent breeze on various places on its body. "Easy, girl. Easy!" He chuckled, pulling a small amount of black sand from the horse, and holding it up for them to see. "Look familiar, Sandman? Took me a while to perfect this trick: Turning dreams into Nightmares."

It seemed some puns were simply unavoidable.

Sandman, however, was completely unamused, clenching his fists in anger at the thought of the sweet and innocent dreams he'd sent the children being _corrupted _in such a way. Jackie couldn't blame him. Even for the Boogeyman, this was low.

"Don't be nervous," Pitch added casually as Tooth drifted back down to her teammates. "It only riles them up more. They smell fear, you know."

"What fear? Of _you_?" Bunny scoffed, taking his boomerang back from Tooth. "Nobody's been afraid of you since the Dark Ages!"

"Oh, the Dark Ages!" Pitch began, wistfully. "Everyone frightened... Miserable! Such happy times for me. Oh, the power I wielded! But then the _Man in the Moon _chose you to replace my fear with your wonder and light." Here, his voice dripped with hatred. Everything else he was saying made it easier for Jacqueline to push away any sympathy she might otherwise have felt. "Lifting their hearts, and giving them hope. Meanwhile, everyone wrote me off as just a bad dream. 'Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of, there's no such thing as the Boogeyman'!" He favored them with a cold smile. "Well, that's all about to change." Looking off to the side, he added, "Oh, look... It's happening already."

Following his gaze, Jacqueline noted that some of the platforms and statues seemed to be... crumbling, almost. Parts of them dissolving to dust for no evident reason. "What is?" She hated having to show just how little of a clue she had as to what was going on, but Tooth's gasp of shock and wide-eyed expression of horror made it clear this was a Bad Thing.

"Children are waking up," Pitch explained, malicious satisfaction in his voice, "and realizing that the Tooth Fairy never came." He chuckled. "It's such a little thing, but to a child..."

"Tooth...?" she prompted, if for no other reason than to shake the bird woman out of her fugue.

"They... don't believe in me, anymore," Tooth replied numbly.

"Didn't they tell you, Jacqueline? It's _great _being a Guardian... but there's a catch. If enough children stop believing, everything your friends protect - wonder, hopes and dreams - it all goes away. And little by little, so do they."

"And people _want _that job?" she asked under her breath. _This _was what they wanted to push on her? For all she knew, her lack of believers would mean she'd poof out of existence almost immediately!

Who knew? Maybe that was the whole idea. Maybe the Jerk in the Moon had finally gotten tired of her whining, and decided to do something about it.

She'd deal with that later. First things first, after all; Pitch was still talking. "No Christmas, or Easter, or little fairies that come in the night."

"Or Boogeyman hiding under their beds?" she challenged. "If kids don't believe in them, why would they believe in you?" she asked, waving a hand absently in the direction of the Guardians. "Did you think this through _at all_?"

"Oh, yes," Pitch assured her, though the glare he was giving her was hardly friendly. "There will be nothing but fear, and darkness... and me." The glare was transferred to the Guardians. "It's your turn not to be believed in. I'm sure Miss Frost here can give you pointers in how to handle it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Becoming less neutral," she said flatly... and the platform Pitch was standing on abruptly iced over.

Recognizing a cue when he saw one, Bunny let out a yell and hurled his boomerang at the Boogeyman. Pitch twisted out of the way, his feet slipping out from under him in the process. He grabbed hold of the Nightmare still next to him, which jumped off the platform, hurtling the two of them down toward the ground. The Guardians - and Jackie - quickly followed suit.

Bunny threw a few egg grenades, which exploded with brightly colored puffs of smoke, but Pitch jinked and dodged out of the way every time.

They landed on the ground, weapons drawn... but with no target to use them on.

"He's gone..."


End file.
